


The Sunglasses Gang

by Em_The_Anxious_Dragon



Series: Sanders Hospital [5]
Category: Cartoon Therapy (Web Series), Sanders Sides (Web Series), Thomas Sanders (Video Blogging RPF) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe- Hospital, Blackmail, Cancer, Chemotherapy, Film Noir, Gen, In MY AU?, Investigations, Remus mention, Silly Interrogations, Something that isn't angsty?, Theft, Unbelievable!, what's this?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-01-30 01:43:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21420130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Em_The_Anxious_Dragon/pseuds/Em_The_Anxious_Dragon
Summary: Nate's always been a bit of a lone wolf. In the police force, the P.I culture of Miami, and even at Sanders Hospital, his quiet, introspective, film noir-like, almost anti-social attitudes have made it difficult to make close friends. At least he's got his work. Today, he's focused on a robbery. Someone has stolen the cash from the lobby coffee shop. The day only intensifies when cafe owner Remy and food services director The Critic insist on following him around. Their involvement makes his day a bit more interesting.Help Nate, Remy, and the Critic catch the thief by directing Nate's investigation! Interrogate suspects, examine crime scenes, and hunt down the criminal by commenting what Nate should do next! These comments are accepted until the case is solved!
Series: Sanders Hospital [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1434511
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wow! A non-angsty Sanders Hospital story! It's more likely than you think. I'm super pumped to explore these three. I hope you enjoy this little adventure!

_The very existence of a hospital is a sign of humanity's greed and evil. Masked men gun down innocent bystanders in alleys. Disputes turn bloody. Those with diseases beyond their control find themselves unable to pay to the faceless beings of insurance and medical care. When the world turns dark, its victims flock here, hoping to find a bit of relief. But even these clean halls aren't free from corruption. We live in a world where there are no safe havens. There are only people doing their best to create the illusion of it. Their job is to endlessly struggle against the cruel forces of-_

"Good morning, Nate!" Emile chirped as he strolled towards his office. Nate snapped out of his daily morning monologue, color returning to his thoughts. He fixed his sunglasses and pushed himself off the air conditioner he had been half leaning, half sitting on.

"Morning, Dr. Picani," Nate said with a nod.

"Have you been able to watch that movie I recommended?" Emile asked. He pulled a key out of his pocket and stuck in the lock to his office.

"I started it," Nate sighed. "_Who Framed Roger Rabbit_ seems like my sort of film."

"I knew you'd like it!" Emile chirped, smiling and opening his office. "Have a good day!" With a soft click of the door, Nate was once again alone. He smoothed down his dark gray security uniform and adjusted his crooked belt of tools. He pulled off his sunglasses and rubbed them against his sleeve. He could never be bothered to properly wash them, even though they were prescription sunglasses. He slid them back on and pulled his long black hair out of his shirt. He cracked his shoulders and neck, crossed his arms, and started down the halls of the Sanders Hospital psychiatry ward.

_Psychiatry. Out of all specialties in the medical world, it's always given a bad rap. When the world hears 'psychiatry', images come to their minds of dark asylums and screaming murderers in straight-jackets. How could they have been so wrong? I've patrolled these halls many times before, and I've never seen a single straight-jacket. Just because the conditions of these patients were unseen, they were dismissed and deemed dangerous. Maybe the real danger came from the people outside this place of patient placed in plastic, bloody cages of society._

"Mr. Christopoulos?" a voice chirped from the radio on Nate's side. Nate grinned and stretched his arms back. The call to duty! Nate pulled the radio off his belt and held it to his face.

"Christopoulos here," he reported. "What's up, Dot?" 

"Remy wanted me to page you," Dot sighed. "He says he showed up for work this morning and all the cash is missing from the cafe register. Could you come down to the lobby, please?" A theft! Now that was something new! When was the last time Nate had investigated a theft?

"I'll be right down," Nate declared into the radio. "Christopoulos out." Nate hooked the radio back on his belt and started on a jog through the hospital towards the stairs. Theories spun around Nate's head, but he kept himself grounded. Assumptions were terrible in an investigation. And finally, he would be on a true investigation! It wasn't like his usual job of dealing with rowdy patients and visitors wasn't interesting, but there was no mystery there! Now, he'd finally have something he could really grip his hands around. He was the only person he knew who got excited about crime.

Nate strolled through the door near the bottom of the winding cement stairs into the main lobby of Sanders. He could hear the shouting from across the wide room, where early morning visitors were giving the usually busy coffee shop a wide berth.

"Yeah, no, I'm not having this," a voice snapped. "Like, this is literally all the cash I get, hon. You think these coffee funds go into the hospital's bank account?"

"A portion of the funds go into food services," someone else huffed. "So yes, I do think so."

"You may not actually work at this place, but there are people who do, people whose funds come out of that register!" the first voice shouted. "Like me!" Nate walked past the front desk, nodding at Dot who was currently doing her best to look like she wasn't staring at the coffee shop. Two nearly identical figures stood facing each other behind the cafe counter. Both wore sunglasses, though one had theirs tucked into the dark patterned shirt under their leather jacket. The other leaned against the counter in all black, looking all-in-all done with the conversation. If Nate hadn't been around those two for long enough, he would have thought Remy and The Critic were twins.

“Hey!” Nate called, jogging across the lobby. Remy and the Critic looked up. The Critic angled his glasses so his eyes just peeked out from the top.

“Hi, Nate,” Remy huffed, crossing his arms.

“I got a call about a theft?” Nate asked. He padded around the counter and slipped into the coffee shop.

“Yeah, someone stole all the cash from the register!” Remy grunted. He pulled open the register tucked just out of view of the crowd. Empty. “They even took the pennies. Who bothers to steal pennies?”

“That’s what I’m here to find out,” Nate muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now it’s your turn! Help Nate, Remy, and the Critic solve the mystery by directing Nate’s investigation! Interrogate witnesses and suspects, find clues, and catch the thief! Comment or message me on where Nate should start his investigation! Comments are open!


	2. Chapter 2

**Birdie on Tumblr asked: **Remy, have you discussed finances with anyone recently?

“Remy,” Nate sighed, straightening himself. “Have you discussed your finances with anyone recently? Staff, visitors?”  
  


“Come on, hon,” Remy grunted. “I might have low key ranted about being tight on cash a few weeks ago, but I don’t ‘discuss finances’ with patients or visitors.” Remy put air quotes around Nate’s quote.

“Don’t be a wise guy, Remy,” Nate muttered. “I’m trying to help.”

“The only people I talk to about cash here are my other waiters and this guy,” Remy huffed, gabbing a thumb back at the Critic.

“I’m the one who points fingers around here,” The Critic said, moving between Remy and Nate. “Usually to point out a fashion faux pas.” The Critic turned to Nate. “The last time finances were brought up was the last major hospital finance meeting, a week after that lockdown and Dr. Sanders got temporarily fired.”

_Ah. The lockdown. The events of that will probably stay in my head for the rest of my life. I spent over a day locked in the emergency room, managing panicked patients and CDC regulations. Dr. Berry nearly died. He only just returned from the month long break the hospital forced him into. They may not think much of me, but I watch out for my people. But what do you do when you’re facing an enemy that attacks from within? If Dr. Sanders and Mr. Prince hadn’t taken the blame for the laundry chute we used, I would have lost my job. Luckily, those two only got suspended._

“I talked about how the coffee shop has had a profit dip the last few weeks,” The Critic explained. “The cash we get in from this place barely pays off the cost of having it.”

“It’s a hospital coffee shop, not the OG Starbies,” Remy muttered. 

“Who was at that meeting?” Nate asked.  
“Lots of the hospital big-wigs,” The Critic sighed. “Dr. Sanders, Roman, the board of directors, Francis...” Nate cocked an eyebrow.

“He means Virgil,” Remy muttered. Nate frowned. Could this have been an inside job? If so, what was there to gain?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems Nate has found some suspects! What he needs to figure out is, should he hunt them down or continue searching for clues? You decide!


	3. Chapter 3

**mediocrity-at-best on Tumblr said:** Okay, an idea here is that Roman should definitely be interviewed, not because I think he's guilty but because I feel like if something was going to happen Roman may have heard about it because he's just as big of a gossip as Remy is. Also, if you find out who knows Remy's shift so they can get there when he's definitely going to be there, that could be a start...

**Rose from Tumblr also said:** Continue looking for clues would be my suggestion! Maybe try to see when the crime would have been able to take place?

Nate looked up towards the high ceiling of the lobby. Dome-shaped cameras glinted from the ceiling, acting as black orbs of justice. He pulled out his walkie-talkie. Even though eyewitnesses were unreliable, little could trick a camera.

"Marsha?" Nate said into the walkie-talkie. "Marsha, come in."

"Marsha here," a voice coughed from the tiny machine. "What do you need, Nate?"

"I need you to get the footage of the main lobby from last night and scramble that into a file or hard drive or whatever you use to store security camera footage," Nate ordered.

"That's going to take a bit," Marsha sighed. "I'll get back to you." The walkie-talkie grumbled, and everything was silent. Nate put it back in his belt.

"This place will have to be closed today," Nate told Remy and the Critic. "It's a crime scene, after all."

"Oh come on!" Remy groaned, throwing his head back. "I need to work back that cash!"

"With hope, you'll get that cash back before the end of the day," Nate muttered. He crouched down and scanned the floor. He looked over the rims of his glasses for dramatic effect. The harsh hospital light burned his eyes, so he quickly fixed them back over his eyes. People always said he was trying to be a tough guy with his sunglasses indoors, but with his eyes, he'd probably light on fire if he looked at a Christmas tree without them.

"I'm not shaking your hands until you stop at a bathroom," the Critic groaned, wrapping his shawl tighter. "I've seen what's happened on these floors." Nate felt around in the space just under the counter, just below the register. His fingers graced something smooth and thin. He pulled it into the light. It was a hospital I.D. Roman Prince's glimmering smile stared up at Nate.

"I've got my first suspect," Nate muttered, standing and tucking the I.D into his pocket. "Make sure you lock up the shop, and don't touch anything." Nate turned to go.

"Hold on," Remy huffed, shoving himself into Nate's path. "I'm not waiting for you to @ me when you find the thief. I'm coming with you."

"What I do isn't for show," Nate grumbled. "I need to stay focused. I can't have you tagging along. You'll only slow down the investigation."

"I have coffee for blood," Remy scoffed. "I'll probably notice more than you ever can."

"I'll come too," The Critic sighed. "It seems fun."

"No!" Nate groaned. "That's not how this works! You can't-" 

"Too late, babe, we're doing this," Remy chuckled. He took his sunglasses out of his shirt and slid them on. "Detective Dormir and Officier Christopoulos hunting down the criminal!"

"Just stay out of my way," Nate sighed, shaking his head. He slipped around Remy and trudged towards the elevators. Roman was most likely in Entertainment Row or his office. He wouldn't assume anything yet- the I.D could have a mundane explanation. Still, it was something to follow up on.

_It happens in every buddy cop movie. The experienced cop gets a novice partner following them on their case. Usually, this turns out well. But people forget something important about those movies. Before the end of the movie, they both usually get fired. Maybe I'm taking it too seriously. It's a couple of dudes interested in what I do. Besides, it's not a murderer we're chasing down. I'll keep them safe if anything goes south._

"Roman Prince!" Nate shouted, throwing open the door to Roman's office. Roman was at his desk, mindlessly typing away when the security guard barged in. He screamed, his voice high pitched and piercing, throwing his hands to his chest.

"Nate!" Roman groaned, standing. "You sure know how to make an entrance! Almost rivals my own skills!" Remy and the Critic slipped behind Nate, closing the door. "And you've brought an entourage!"

"Missing something?" Nate asked. He pulled Roman's I.D out of his pocket. Roman's eye lit up.

"Hey, you found it!" Roman cheered. He walked around his desk and grabbed the I.D. "I've been looking for this since yesterday! I thought I would find it myself, but it seems not! Thank you, oh guardian of Sanders?"

"Want to know where he found it?" Remy huffed, stepping beside Nate. Nate held down a sigh. "Behind the counter of my coffee shop. Which just got robbed." Roman's face dropped. He looked down at his I.D.

"What?" Roman gasped. "Wait, hold on. Why was my I.D at the coffee shop? I don't drink hospital coffee. No offense, Remy."

"Eh, Starbies is better," Remy admitted.

"You don't think-" Roman stammered. He shook his head, staring at the I.D. Nate wanted to believe he had nothing to do with the robbery. But he couldn't take that chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems Roman is frazzled. What should Nate ask him?


	4. Chapter 4

**Anon on Tumblr said:** Ask Roman when he lost the id!

“When exactly did you last see the I.D?” Nate asked.

”I had it on me yesterday afternoon!” Roman stammered. “Nate, you must believe me, I would never rob the shop! I’m not that kind of person! I don’t even need the money, do you realize how much this job makes?”

”I believe you, Roman,” Nate sighed, holding up a hand. “But your I.D was at the scene of the crime. Go back through your day, when did you last have it?” Roman padded room his couch, chewing on his lower lip.

”I think it was one of my visits to Entertainment Row,” Roman explained. “I went to the library to see if there was a nursing history book I could glance through, what with the rally coming up and all. I was so focused, I ran into Beatrice! Almost knocked her right over, the kid is that fragile, understandably. I apologized, and we chatted a bit. I asked how the rest of the D&D Trio was, and Beatrice told me about how Luna finally leveled up-“

”Back it up,” The Critic interrupted. “Please tell me you just had a mild seizure and did not mean to say ‘D&D Trio’.”

”The D&D Trio are hospital heroes!” Roman declared with his usual dramatic flair. “The kids go to the same school. got diagnosed with cancer around the same time, and they have all their chemo appointments together! They play D&D since the treatments take so long. I have volunteered as DM a few times, so has Patton! I’m not surprised the puffball got attached to those three, they’re sweet kids.”

"Beatrice," Nate muttered, rehearsing the name in his head. "What happened after that?"

"I realized I was late to a meeting with Virgil and the hospital board," Roman huffed. "Do you know I'm not considered a member of the board, even though I'm with Thomas for most of the meetings? Apparently I'm considered an assistant to Thomas! Even Joan gets a spot on the board, and their job is as important as mine! I'm the director of Public Relations! I deserve a spot on that board!"

"Get back on topic," Nate sighed.

"Right," Roman said. "I said goodbye to Beatrice and hurried off. I know I had my I.D before I entered the library. I have no idea why it ended up in the lobby."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Nate has to figure out where the I.D got lost, where should he go next? Send in a comment!


	5. Chapter 5

**Anon on Tumblr asked:** You've got to find Beatrice! She might have planted his ID there the frame him?

**Birdie on Tumblr also asked:** The obvious next step is to search the library.

* * *

Nate turned towards the Critic and muttered: "You really want to help this investigation?"

"Yeah," The Critic scoffed. "I get to insult people and if they talk back, I can arrest them."

"No you can't," Nate huffed, holding up his index finger. "But I need you to go to the library and look around there. Maybe someone remembers Roman dropping his I.D and saw someone pick it up." 

"You could say please," The Critic chuckled, but he opened the office door and slipped into the hall.

"Roman, do you know where this Beatrice might be now?" Nate asked, turning back to Roman.

"Patton could help you find her," Roman sighed. "I'm sure he has an idea where she is."

"To Pediatrics we go, bois!" Remy said, already half out the door.

"Nate, before you leave," Roman stammered, standing. "Can we talk in private? There's something you need to know." Nate had a pretty good idea what it meant when Roman wanted to talk in private. Remy rolled his eyes, but closed the door after he left.

"I think I can rule you out as a suspect, Roman," Nate admitted. "But if this case isn't finished today, check in with me before you go home." Roman nodded and satback on the couch. 

"So what's with the twins following you around?" Roman asked, cocking his head towards the door.

"They're interested in seeing how I conduct an investigation," Nate sighed. "I chose the easier option."

"You're lucky you got a word in with them around," Roman scoffed. His cocky grin slowly slipped off his place, hesitation in his eyes. "Now, speaking of twins... You're the only one who knows about mine." Nate's suspicions were confirmed. He crossed his arms, taking a step towards Roman.

"Is this the long-awaited thank you?" Nate asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I wouldn't have gotten this job without you," Roman huffed, meeting Nate's eyes. "I wouldn't have gotten any job without you. I used to think my mom hiring a private eye to find me and you-know-who was a witch's curse, but it wasn't."

"Roman, get to the point," Nate sighed. "What's wrong?" Roman looked away from Nate.

"Remus is back," Roman mumbled. "I-I hadn't seen him since Christmas, but he showed up in my office when this rally business started, asking for cash." Roman stood, grabbing Nate's shoulders. The security guard tensed but didn't back away from the young man. "Nate, I'm being blackmailed. He's threatening to tell Thomas everything if I stop paying his rent. I am a victim of illegal bullying!"

_It would be tough to forget the case where I ran into the man gripping my shoulders with the strength of an Olympian. It was one of my first cases off the police, starting up my career as a private eye. Mrs. Deborah Prince hired me to find Roman and Remus Prince, her twin sons. Apparently Remus had stolen her car, and she wanted it back without involving the police. It was easier to find Roman than his brother. Unlike Remus, Roman was trying to do some good in the world- he was only a few years out of high school and he'd snagged a job as a sign spinner for a sandwich shop. When I stopped him on his corner and grilled him for information, I found something else. I found a nearly homeless kid full of dreams with nowhere to go. So, as time went on and I finally got that car back, I kept in touch with him. I learned his dirty secrets, and I kept them safe. If Remus truly was threatening to expose those secrets, both our jobs were at stake. After all, I'm the one who got him his introduction to Thomas in the first place._

"Roman, relax your hands before you break my shoulders," Nate huffed, pulling Roman's hands off of him. "What do you need me to do?"

"If I call the police on him, he'd sell me out before the boys in blue could slap the cuffs on him," Roman stammered. "I need you to help me. I need to find a way to stop the blackmail." Roman stalked to his desk and found a loose piece of paper. He grabbed a pen from his coffee mug of writing utensils and jotted something down. "This is his address." Roman tossed the paper across the room. Nate's hands scrambled in front of him, desperately trying to catch the paper, but it floated to the floor.

"I hate it when people throw things at me," Nate muttered, bending and picking up the note. "I'll see what I can do, Roman."

"I have so many debts to you I still haven't paid off," Roman chuckled, sitting behind his desk. "I am at your service!"

"I'll tell you when I've got any updates," Nate sighed, opening the door to his office. Remy leaned against the wall outside, texting.

"Care to spill the tea?" Remy asked, tucking his phone away as Nate closed the door.

"Nope," Nate huffed, trudging down the hall. "Come on, Dormir."

_Pediatrics has a different feel to it than any other area of the hospital. The walls are covered in colorful waves, with cartoon characters dancing through the air. The nurses trade the traditional purple scrubs for ridiculous ones, with unicorns and rainbows and all sorts of characters. Tiny patients pushing past in wheelchairs chat with their parents and their nurse. It's tough for little kids to be scared in this place. Even the teenagers enjoy the childlike nostalgia this ward possesses. The grim realities of disease and death are muted in this wonderla-_

"Hey, you're mumbling," Remy interrupted Nate's internal (or perhaps not so internal) monologue. "You gucci?"

"I have no idea what that means," Nate said over his shoulder as he approached the half-moon shaped reception desk of the pediatrics ward. He flashed the receptionist a charming smile- he'd spent months working on it when he was a private investigator. "Do you know where Dr. Patton Foster is? Could you page him for me?"

"Alright sir," the receptionist said, turning to the other side of their desk. Remy leaned his elbows against the desk.

"I know I shouldn't," Remy chuckled, whispering to Nate. "But I've got a strong urge to corrupt some children. Teach them about communism or something."

"Let's not," Nate huffed. "This is a serious investigation."

"Hey!" a cheery voice called from the end of the main hall. Dr. Patton Foster jogged towards the reception desk, his white coat catching behind him like a superhero's cape. He wasn't wearing the light blue polo Nate almost always saw the doctor in during work hours- this time, he wore a gray shirt under his coat with a kitten paw-print on the chest. Patton slowed to a stop in front of Remy and Nate. "I saw that I got paged, and I was just down the hall! Lucky timing, huh? What do ya need?"

"Do you know a young girl named Beatrice?" Nate asked. "Member of a Dungeons and Dragons team?"

"I know Beatrice," Patton said, frowning. "Everything okay?"

"We just need to talk to her," Nate explained. "Is she in the hospital?"

"She's having a chemo treatment right now," Patton explained. "I'll take you to her! Follow me." Patton strolled down the hallway behind the receptionist, his heels kicking up behind him. Nate and Remy followed after them, their sunglasses catching the light. It was a slow walk to the children's chemotherapy room, because Patton kept stopping to say hi to every child he passed, giving them a high five or a pun that made them laugh or roll their eyes. There was one child Patton spent so long talking to, Remy had time to go to a vending machine and grab a Dunkin Donuts coffee.

The chemotherapy room in the pediatrics ward had an aqua green ocean lining the lower walls. Rolling blue walls separated the white beds where kids lay watching TV shows on their tablets while sickly yellow chemicals got pumped into their systems. Some of them had warm fuzzy beanies on their hairless heads. Others wrapped themselves in warm blankets as they read or worked on homework or took a quick nap. While a few chatted with the kids behind the blue walls, three chemo chairs sat in a circle around a table covered in maps and dice with three kids. The biggest of the group sat behind a dungeon master's screen in a Star Wars t-shirt and a blanket pulled over his head like a hood. One had a neon pink afro wig, and the last child wore scrubs hidden under a thick green blanket.

"Can someone heal me, please?" the dungeon master groaned.

"It's not my turn, dude," the kid with the afro said, shrugging.

"Booboo, it's your turn, heal me!" the dungeon master begged, turning to the kid with the blanket.

"I'm a dark mage!" Booboo laughed. "I can't heal people. Ok, here's what I'll do, I'll take the goblin next to you and I'll suck out his life force!"

"Hey, kiddos!" Patton chirped, approaching the table. "What are Biggs, Luna, and Booboo up to today?"

"They ran into a goblin swarm," the dungeon master explained. "Biggs got knocked out and I'm trying to get someone to heal me."

"Well, do you think you can pause the game for a moment?" Patton asked. "I have someone I'd like you to meet. Everyone, this is Mr. Christopoulos. He's one of the security guards who help keep everyone in the hospital safe. Mr. Dormir runs the coffee shop in the lobby. Nate, Remy, this is Mark, Lucy, and Beatrice, also known as Biggs, Luna, and Booboo." Each kid waved a little when their name was said.

"Beatrice," Nate sighed, crouching beside the table. "I've got a couple questions for you. Think you can answer?"

"Okay," Beatrice said, nodding and adjusting her blanket.

"Were you in the library yesterday?" Nate asked.

"Yeah," Beatrice admitted. "Mom let me go pick out a book."

"Did you run into Mr. Prince up there?" Nate asked. "Did he drop anything?" Beatrice's face dropped.

"Am I in trouble?" Beatrice asked.

"Why would you think that?" Remy asked, taking a swig of his Dunkin Donuts coffee.

"Well, when he left, I saw he dropped something," Beatrice explained, looking down in shame. "It was his hospital ID, like the one I have for school. I was going to give it back to him, but Mom pulled me away back to my room. She didn't want me out of bed for too long because I had a fever and she didn't want it getting worse. I didn't have a chance to get it back to him, so I kept it with me! I was going to give it back to him!"

"I believe you, Beatrice," Nate assured her. "But we found the ID in the lobby. How did it get there?"

"There was this kid," Beatrice explained.

"What kid?" Nate asked.

"I thought they were going straight to Mr. Prince!" Beatrice stammered. "I was waiting with my mom to see one of the cancer doctors, and she went to the bathroom for a bit. This kid came by and saw the ID. I explained what happened, and they promised me they would take it to Mr. Prince, so I gave it to them!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A mysterious child, and a traveling ID. What's the next step in the investigation?


	6. Chapter 6

**watchoutforthefanfics said:** Maybe ask Beatrice for a description of the kid? And check up on the security footage or the process of getting it?

* * *

"Okay, Beatrice," Nate sighed. "You aren't in trouble, as long as you tell me what this kid looked like."

"They had these thick black bangs," Beatrice explained, waving a hand in front of her forehead. "And a chunk of their hair was in a ponytail, while the rest was loose and went past their shoulders. Oh, and they were missing a pinkie!"

"Missing a pinkie?" Remy scoffed, pulling off his glasses for dramatic effect.

"Yeah, on their right hand!" Beatrice explained, pointing to the finger in question. "I asked them what happened, they said they were born without one on that hand. It was just a tiny stump." Nate smiled and held out his hand.

"Thanks for your help, Dark Mage Booboo," Nate said. Beatrice shook Nate's hand, her blanket nearly slipping off. 

"Have fun with your game," Remy chuckled as Patton led the two out of the chemotherapy room. As soon as the door was closed, Nate pulled out his walkie talkie.

"Marsha, it's Nate," Nate said into the device. "Do you have that footage ready?"

"Just about," Marsha reported. "Come on down. It'll be ready when you get here."

"Copy that," Nate chirped, sliding his walkie talkie back into his belt. "Thank you for assisting in the investigation, Dr. Foster."

"I'm glad I could help!" Patton chirped. "I gotta go check on some patients. Buh-bye!" He jogged down the hall, waving to the pair as he slipped around a corner.

"I'll tell the Critic to meet us at the security office," Remy sighed, pulling out his phone. Nate grabbed his wrist.

"Maybe..." Nate stammered, gently lowering Remy's hand as the barista gave him a glare. "We could leave the Critic to his job."

"He's part of our group," Remy huffed, crossing his arms. "You aren't trying to get rid of him, are you?"

"What?" Nate chuckled awkwardly. "Of course not. But the Critic is still the director of food services. He has a job to do."

"Well, this theft is part of his job," Remy scoffed, waving his phone in Nate's face with a smirk. "He needs to make sure that food services get their cash back. So, since you clearly wish he could stay with us, I'll text him. Lead the way, Christopoulos." Nate bit back a groan as he marched through the halls with Remy's face buried in his phone.

_Remy Dormir is determined to undermine this investigation. Anyone would be worried about getting their property returned to them, but citizens don't follow the police around on their investigations. They leave them to do their jobs. Dormir and the Critic have done nothing but pad after me. Their only contribution to this case has been an annoyance of epic proportions. The sooner this case was finished and these two leave me alone, the sooner peace can return._

The security camera footage was stored in the heart of the main building of Sanders Hospital with an 'Employees Only' sign hammered into the metal door. Somehow, The Critic beat Nate and Remy to the room and glared at them as they approached.

"The library was a waste of time," The Critic scoffed. "That librarian is blinder than the rats from _Shrek_. Let's hope the cameras did their job, at least." Nate squirmed past The Critic and opened the door. The small room barely had enough room for the metal chair and desk inside, let alone three full-grown men. Marsha, a large woman with a tight ponytail, sat at the chair typing away at her computer. A large monitor spread across the wall with live footage from the hospital. Currently, it showed the elementary classroom in the psychiatric ward for the little long term patients. Dr. Picani was chatting to a group of little kids, making big, elaborate gestures.

"Hey, Marsha," Nate said, padding into the room. Remy and the Critic squeezed inside, pushed against the wall. "The footage ready?"

"You've got it," Marsha declared, tapping a USB drive on her desk. She grabbed it and plugged it into her computer. The big monitor glitched and soon archived footage from the main lobby appeared onscreen. A tiny Remy reached up to the little gate that kept the coffee shop safe at night and pulled it down. The gate fell against the floor with a soft crash. "You didn't specifiy which part of the night you wanted, so I saved it all. Any idea how far into the night you want me to scroll?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on the clues avaliable and a bit of logic, what time should Marsha look up to find the thief?


End file.
